Number 5 Is Alive
by CactusJuice7
Summary: (AU from and including S6E03 "The Third Man") Dean, Sam and Castiel have been thrown together again after a year of wandering down separate paths. With Lucifer locked in the Cage, everything should be winding down again. Predictably, it's not, and the arrival of a new player on the board leads the boys to meet with faces they had resigned to never seeing again.
1. Chapter 1: The Family Business

AN: Welcome to my first fanfic! If you're reading this, thank you for giving me a chance despite the bland summary... How does one balance the need of drawing people in with the need of preserving the plot of the story? The M rating is primarily for coarse language, although there may be some romantic entanglements later on (I've been slipping in some sneaky Destiel if you look closely). It is my hope that actually publishing my work online will motivate me to finish it (I'm looking at weekly updates for now).

That's all folks, please enjoy!

* * *

Dean sat down heavily on the creaky motel bed, his eyes finding Sam's back as he twisted open his beer. His towering brother stood at the large window across the room, staring out at the town lit by streetlight. Dean paused, momentarily letting his tumultuous emotions come to the forefront of his mind. Truly he was beyond happy and relieved to see his brother again, especially since the last time they saw each other, Sam (well, Lucifer really) had beaten his face to pulp and then jumped into the Cage. Diving into Lucifer's playpen had a morbid sense of finality about it, and Sam himself had said that he wasn't going to get back out. Dean had resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to see his little brother again.

 _On the other hand,_ Dean thought as he took a swig of his beer, _he has been back for a year._ He refused to acknowledge the gift he received in the form of Lisa and Ben, instead letting his fury at being kept in the dark about Sam's return wash away that temporary happiness. There was also the niggling sensation in the back of his mind that something wasn't quite right with Sam, and paired with the refusal to believe that Sam just "got out", the feeling amounted to a lingering uneasiness that refused to be quashed down.

"Nice place you got here Sammy," Dean quipped, not bothering to look up at his brother as he swung his legs onto his bed to lounge effortlessly.

Sam stiffened, pulling himself up to his full height before turning to face his brother. Dean was staring down at the beer bottle in his hand, absently playing with the label. Sam was one of few that could hear Dean's comment for what it really was: an excuse to start a fight. "Dean, don't do this," he replied with a sigh.

"Don't do what?" Dean's eyes finally met Sam's.

"I know you. Don't try to pick a fight because you're angry with-"

"Yeah and why shouldn't I be?" Dean interrupted sharply, swinging his legs off the bed to stand up again. "I watched you dive headfirst into the pit. I've watched you jump into that bottomless hole a thousand times over, every time I closed my damn eyes. I couldn't stop seeing it. I _never_ stopped wishing it was me."

Sam swallowed. "Dean-"

"I never stopped Sammy." Dean continued, slowly walking towards his sibling. He sounded angry, but Sam knew he was really stricken with grief. Knew that his furrowed brows and tense jaw just hid the unshed tears in his eyes and the painful lump in his throat. "I stayed with Lisa and stopped hunting because you asked me to. Because I promised you. Because if I couldn't save you, the least I could do was what you wanted me to." Dean stopped a few feet away from Sam, fists clenching, beer bottle forgotten behind him on the nightstand.

Sam dropped his eyes to the carpet, unable to look at Dean. "Dean I- I thought that's what you wanted, to-"

"I wanted my _brother_!" Dean's voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper. "After all these years Sammy, after everything I've done for you, I thought you would've known…" The lump in Dean's throat suddenly grew to stop him from speaking further.

Sam looked up briefly to meet Dean's wet eyes, but found himself unable to maintain eye contact. "Dean, I-" he started, then sighed again. He raised his gaze to Dean once more. "I'm sorry that I didn't… that I don't know you as well as I thought I did. I guess I thought that you could forget about me…"

Dean's face crumpled at that.

"I thought I was helping you, Dean."

Dean turned his eyes skywards in an effort to drain his tears away before they leaked down his face. He looked down to his hands, white-knuckled from clenching so hard and made a conscious effort to relax them. He looked up at Sam and opened his mouth to reply.

 _Whoof._ The familiar sound shocked both brothers, as it was a sound neither of them had heard for a year. They both turned incredulously to face Castiel, who had just materialised beside them. Both started to speak at the same time.

"Cas? Where-"

"What the hell-"

Castiel raised a hand to silence them. "Please, I need you to clear a bed. There's someone important coming and they are not well."

Before either Winchester could question him further, Castiel had taken flight again and left behind two brothers staring at the space he had just vacated, twin looks of confusion adorning their faces.

Sam snapped out of it first, brushing past Dean to reach the double bed on the right side of the room. Sam had picked up the first duffel to move from bed to floor before he noticed Dean still frozen to the spot. "Dean," he called.

Dean immediately met his brother's gaze at the sound of his name; apparently shaken out of whatever freeze frame he was stuck in. He quickly marched over to the bed now freshly cleared of all their bags and starting tugging the sheet and duvet down to the foot of the bed. Sam moved to prop the pillows up against the headboard in order to support whoever was coming in an elevated position. Their movements were practiced, routine and nearly unconscious. Dean couldn't help but take a small amount of comfort in how easy it was to slip back into the simple cohesiveness that he and his brother created together.

* * *

Castiel strode carefully through the unkempt graves of Stull Cemetery. It almost made sense to have such a drab and unassuming location named as the 'chosen field'; the final showdown between Michael and Lucifer was prophesied to play out with no intruders, allies or interruptions. At least, that's how it was supposed to happen. The memory of Dean crawling up to the warring archangels in the Impala still tugged the corners of Castiel's mouth into a smirk.

But that was a year ago. Castiel dragged his mind back to the present. He absently noticed the long grass he walked on had been uniformly flattened in a radial pattern. It was not a surprising observation, nor a necessary one. He could feel the power pulsing from the being lying at the epicenter. Initially he thought that perhaps one of his brethren had fallen to Earth, as the power bore a strong resemblance to angelic Grace. But now as he got closer, and a vulnerable body came into view, he could detect different nuances that were enough to make him doubt a heavenly heritage.

Castiel stopped a few feet away from the body. The vessel lay sprawled on the ground, naked and still. The angel within, or almost-angel, still pulsed brightly with life. Cas cocked his head to the side and squinted a little bit. The Grace within the vessel was not the usual blinding white of a hallmark angel. Instead, it was a tainted, smoky, gunmetal grey. Castiel decided to stow away his concerns and doubts for the time being, and crouched down to scoop the smaller body in his arms. Surely he would be able to discover more in due time, but right now he needed to be somewhere safe. With the Winchesters.

* * *

Dean and Sam had just straightened up after preparing the bed when Castiel reappeared, accompanied by the standard rush of air. A limp and decidedly female body was enclosed in his arms.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Wow Cas. I mean, I prefer my ladies alive, but to each their own I guess."

Cas ignored Dean's witticism as he walked tentatively towards the prepared bed, while Sam shook his head in mild frustration at Dean's poor humour. As Cas delicately laid the young woman down on the mattress, he spoke. "Dean, I believe the phrase humans use is, 'There's a time and a place.' I am quite anxious about whoever or whatever this person is and I would appreciate it if you could treat this matter seriously."

Dean raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry man, no harm meant. Tell us about your lady friend, then."

Cas narrowed his eyes slightly at Dean, but turned to look at the unconscious woman before him instead. "I'm very unsure about whatever he is."

Sam spoke up. "Well, she's gotta be an Angel, right? I mean, that's why you could sense her when she… arrived?"

"I can tell that much," replied Castiel, leaning over the vessel to peer deeply into her face. "However the Grace in this body is different from most other Angels."

"Okay, what does that mean?" asked Dean, his brow furrowed.

"You know, of course, that my brethren and I see each others' true faces, our Graces, even when possessing a vessel." Castiel began, straightening up and turning to face the brothers. "Almost all Grace is what you would perceive as pure white light."

"Almost all?" prompted Sam, subtly rolling his shoulders and crossing his arms with a hint of defensiveness.

Castiel's eyes landed on Sam, who gazed back at him with a tense jaw. He paused a moment, hoping to avoid upsetting Sam with his next words. "Heaven and Hell are extreme opposites. While my brothers and I thrive in the fields of Heaven, we languish in the realms of Hell. As a result we tend to avoid venturing there for anything less than the direst of situations." Cas flicked his gaze to Dean. His brow was still creased, but at Cas' last words he opened his mouth as if to say something. When no words left his throat, Cas looked back to Sam and continued. "Should an Angel spend an inordinate amount of time in Hell, the darkness can seep into their very being and taint their Grace."

Sam paled visibly. "Cas," he started. "Ple- Tell me that is not Lucifer lying on my bed," he ground out shakily, the fingers of one hand digging into the opposing bicep of his still-crossed arms.

Dean started like he'd been shocked. "Woah, Cas, what-"

Cas raised a placating hand. "It is not Lucifer," he stated, choosing to swallow the pain he felt at Sam's distrust in him. "The Adversary's Grace is pitch black and barely emits any light." He turned back to the figure lying idle on the bed. "Our guest's Grace is only a medium grey."

A silence fell then. Sam let out a slow breath and finally uncrossed his arms while Dean frowned at the floor as he processed the information he just been given.

"Hold on Cas," Dean started, a tiny detail all of a sudden sticking out in his mind. "Did you call her a 'he' before?"

Cas swiveled back to face Dean. "Yes, I did."

Dean's lips pursed in puzzlement. "So, what? There a dude angel inside that chick's body?"

Castiel tilted his head slightly to the side. "Angels do not have a sex, Dean. Many of us choose the sex of our vessels based on what is more 'traditionally' suited to our dominant personality traits. You recall that Anna was much more docile and empathetic than my brothers. The little knowledge I currently have about our guest points to them leaning towards a stereotypical masculine character." When Dean's befuddled expression did not waver, Cas sighed. "I'm sure they'll do a much better job of explaining it when they wake."

"Speaking of waking, and sleeping for that matter," Sam broke in, apparently having had ample time to sort himself out. "We're a bed down," he finished, looking at Dean.

Dean's eyes narrowed slightly in focus as he brought up his fisted right hand to rest against the open palm of his left. Sam mirrored his movements, maintaining an intense eye contact with his brother. At a previously undecided moment they both tapped their fists against their open palm once, twice, three times. The third tap saw Dean extend two fingers, while Sam kept his hand in a fist. Immediately Dean scoffed, dropping his hands and looking upwards in frustrated disbelief.

Sam, meanwhile, smiled a genuine smile for perhaps the first time that night. "Oh Dean," he said teasingly, clapping his hand firmly on Dean's shoulder. "Always with the scissors." He then moved past him to lay claim to the bed, while Dean moved towards the couch.

Castiel was still unclear on the details of the unusual method the Winchesters used to settle scores. Dean had tried to explain it to him once, but he still didn't quite understand how a flimsy piece of paper was meant to subdue a rock simply by wrapping itself around it's designated enemy.

As the brothers roamed between the bathroom and their respective bed and couch in preparation for sleep, Cas elected to pull up a chair to sit and keep watch at the feet of the enigmatic girl. Sam had quietly dressed her in one of his old t-shirts and a pair of dark sweats, and then tugged the duvet up to her waist before tucking it in while Dean brushed his teeth in the bathroom. Cas dimly realised he perhaps should've thought to do something about the vessel's nudity before he came back to the motel, but it was of no consequence anymore. He instead resigned himself to a few quiet hours of listening to the quiet breathing of his charges and carefully watching the new arrival.

* * *

AN: Please review! I would love to hear anything you have to say whether it be positive, constructive or just "This bit made me laugh!"

(You may recognise some lines from the show. One of them I felt was inevitable and needed to be included, the other is just cute so SUE ME)(Please don't I have 0 money)


	2. Chapter 2: Good Morning Vietnam!

AN: This chapter is rated E for Enochian! See the the AN at the end for translation and explanation :)

* * *

Castiel had been sitting very still for nearly five hours before the mysterious woman showed any sign of movement. At first he thought he might've imagined it, just the smallest twitch of her fingers, and he leant forward in anticipation. When her eyebrows creased slightly and she drew in a deep breath, Castiel was already walking to stand by her bedside. Her eyes blinked open and Cas opened his mouth to speak.

"Fuck you're bright!" the woman groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and turning her head away from Cas slightly.

Cas shut his mouth again and almost looked down at himself before he realised she was talking about his Grace. "Apologies. It is very dark in Hell, and you've obviously spent quite a long time there."

The girl rubbed at her eyes. "You been downstairs then?"

Castiel fought to not look at where Dean lay sleeping on the couch behind him. "Just the once. It is not a trip I wish to repeat if I can help it."

"Yeah, it's not for everyone. Not sure even I'd like to go back at this point."

Castiel didn't reply because it sounded as if she would continue. Instead she finally turned to face him again, albeit with squinted eyes. "So, who are you, where am I, and what the Hell am I wearing?" she asked sharply, frowning down at herself and throwing the duvet off to the end of the bed, but making no movement to get up.

Sam shifted in his sleep, causing Cas to spin round to confirm he was still sleeping. "My name is Castiel, I'm an Angel of th-"

"Angel, huh?" the woman interrupted. "Are you all fucking white and blinding or did I luck out with you?" she sniped.

Castiel frowned slightly at the interruption, but continued. "You are currently in a motel room in Easter, Pennsylvania, and my friend Sam dressed you in some of his clothes. You were naked when I found you, and humans are still uncomfortable with public nudity." He turned back to face her. "As for your last question, I've only met one other Angel who's Grace wasn't pure white. Lucifer."

The woman smiled briefly at the mention of The Devil's name, but then her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open slightly in realization. "Oh! Castiel! You're that Castiel! Little Cas who Molotov'd Mike with Holy Fire and then got obliterated!"

She laughed as a groan sounded from the other bed. Castiel turned around once again to look at Sam, except this time he really was awake. Sam rubbed a brisk hand over his face before reaching out to turn on the bedside lamp. His fingers never found the switch as Cas gripped his wrist before he could.

"Cas, what-"

"Sorry Sam, our guest is somewhat sensitive to light."

The woman scoffed, drawing the eyes of both Sam and Castiel. "Turn the bloody thing on. If the Sun is as bad as I've heard it is, I'll be needing to get used to being in the damn light all the time."

Castiel and Sam looked at each for a second before he released Sam's arm. The light from the lamp illuminated a small area of the room shortly afterwards.

"So you know Cas?" asked Sam, voice still husky from sleep.

The girl sighed, still blinking from the new addition of light. "Not personally, no. Just heard about him a little while I was down in Hell. Heard quite a bit about you though, Sam Winchester." She smirked at Sam, who had moved to sit on the edge of his bed, his weight braced on his outstretched arms behind him.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, and we know next to nothing about you, except that you've been in Hell so long your Grace is tainted and you have a sensitivity to light."

She chuckled at this. "Well you've got nothing wrong so far."

Sam seemed to expect her to say more, but she was not forthcoming. Instead she lay back on pillows that were supporting her back, still smiling. At this, Sam huffed and dragged a hand over his face. "Well, uh, you have a name?"

The woman raised a fist in apparent victory, although her eyes remained closed. "Finally, they ask the million-dollar question!" She dropped her arm back onto the bed.

Sam looked at Cas, who was determinedly avoiding meeting his eyes.

"Elijah is my name, or so I've been told."

"Elijah? So Dean was right? About the whole male angel in a female vessel thing?" asked Sam.

Elijah opened her eyes again and turned to glare at Sam. "I'm an Angel you dumbass, I'm about as male as you are female. Surely Castiel explained that?" She looked to Cas, eyebrows raised in question.

"I did explain how Angels lack a dichotomous sex, and that they choose the sex of their Vessels based on-"

"Blah, blah, you sound like a textbook," said Elijah, cutting Castiel off. She looked back to Sam. "I've always been in a female Vessel, from day one. I could take a male Vessel if I wanted, I would be completely comfortable with that, but I am a sentimental creature. This Vessel is eons old, it'd be a shame to give it up now."

It was awkwardly silent for a few moments. Sam cleared his throat. "So, uh, can we call you a she, then?"

Elijah had closed her eyes again. "If it helps you sleep at night, yes."

Sam huffed a small laugh to himself, then stood and gathered a change of clothes before heading to the bathroom.

Two sets of eyes trailed after Sam as he made his journey. Elijah spoke once sounds of a running water reached their ears. "What's he doing in there?" she asked curiously.

Castiel turned from the door to look at her. "Having a shower. It is one way humans keep themselves clean."

Elijah nodded slowly. "Has he always been so…" She trailed off and waved her hand vaguely in the air.

Castiel frowned. "I am unsure what you mean."

Elijah looked at Castiel again, and sighed. "Of course you are."

Castiel opened his mouth to reply, but realised he didn't know what to say. A comfortable silence surrounded them until a bodily thump sounded from the couch. Followed shortly by a whispered "Son of a bitch!" in a voice still rough from sleep.

Elijah laughed as Dean pulled himself to a standing position, swaying slightly. "Good morning Dean Winchester! The Earth says hello!" she called tauntingly, sitting up to cup her hands around her mouth.

Dean did not reply, instead shooting Elijah a withering stare before shuffling over to the kitchenette to splash some cold water onto his face.

Castiel cleared his throat, garnering Elijah's attention. "He is usually unpleasant right after he wakes up, just give him some time. I'm told many humans are the same."

"Huh." Elijah nodded, then shrugged. "Can't say I'm surprised."

Dean strolled over from the kitchenette, feet dragging imperceptibly, and slumped down in the armchair at the foot of Elijah's bed that Cas had occupied for most of the night. A notion that was not lost on Elijah, and as she looked to Castiel, she judged by the infinitesimal flare of his Grace that it was not lost on him either. _Interesting_ thought Elijah.

"So, sweetheart, it's great to see you're still kicking," said Dean, unaware that he was the subject in the thoughts of both Angels before him.

Elijah suddenly burst out laughing, hands quickly clapping over mouth to stop the noise. Her shoulders, however, continued to shake with mirth.

Castiel frowned as he tilted his head to look at Elijah, clearly confused.

Dean did not look impressed. "Mind letting us in on the joke, princess?"

Elijah drew in a deep breath as her hilarity came to an end. "Nah, don't worry about it. Just my stupid sense of humour. Although, you'll probably figure it out within the hour."

Dean remained unenthused. "Right, well, someone wanna catch me up on everything?"

Castiel looked back to Dean. "You have not missed much, Elijah only woke up eleven minutes ago."

"Yeah, we've established location, the clothes I'm wearing, tainted Grace and my sensitivity to light," Elijah smiled back at Dean. "Oh! And I'm on first-name basis with everyone now!"

"Elijah huh?" Dean responded, puzzlement creating a crease between his eyebrows. "That definitely sounds biblical."

Definitely not the question Elijah expected to spill from his lips.

"That's because the name Elijah is an example of theophory," replied Sam, who had exited the bathroom and was approaching the conversation with his old clothes balled up in his hands. "It's where you take a god's name and use it in someone's first name. In the Hebrew Bible they refer to God as 'El'. Explains why a whole lot of the Angels we've met have names that end in El."

Dean looked to Castiel. "Your name means God?" he questioned.

Castiel sighed. "In a vague sense, yes. More specifically, it means 'Shield of God'."

"Right." Dean looked back at Elijah. "So you're from Heaven, then?"

Elijah fell back against the pillows stacked behind her, staring at the ceiling aimlessly. "I suppose I must be. I mean, I was told I was, but I have no memories of the place. My earliest recollections are of walking the Earth with Luci."

Sam and Dean began talking at the same time, while Castiel looked on in silence.

"Walking on Earth? You mean you got kicked out?"

"Luci? Are you talking about Lucifer? As in, The Devil, Lucifer?"

Elijah's eyes snapped down and looked between the brothers. Dean looked shocked and a little concerned, while Sam was trying to smother a panic response with anger. "I don't know if I was kicked out, weren't you listening?! Despite being the most probable answer, it doesn't explain why God would rid Heaven of a _baby_ of all things!" She then addressed Sam. "Yes, Sam. Lucifer-as-in-The-Devil Lucifer. I mean, do you know any other Morning Stars?" she snapped, obviously irritated.

"Why are you on a nickname basis with The Devil?" Sam asked firmly, ignoring her annoyance.

Elijah rolled her eyes. "I dunno man, maybe because he fucking raised me?!"

Sam turned to the others. "She can't stay," he said resolutely.

"Sam-" Cas started.

"Are you fucking serious? What the actual f-"

Dean suddenly stood up from the armchair, surprising Elijah into silence. "Why are you here, Elijah?" he asked steadily.

The corner of Elijah's mouth twitched upwards. "I'm not really sure why you're asking me, Castiel is the one who br-"

Dean closed his eyes. "Why are you here, on Earth?" he grit out, exasperation evident.

"Hmm, let me think," droned Elijah, sarcastically tapping her fingers against her chin. "Oh yes, that's right. Luci got thrown back in his playpen, thanks to you dweebs. A Demon became King of Hell in his place and put a price on my head because yes, as the unofficial Ruler of Hell while Luce skipped around on Earth, I was considered a rival. We all know how much Angels and Demons love each other, and with Lucifer locked away once again, Crowley wanted me gone. But Michael, the stupid twat, he got himself dragged into the Cage too. Little Raph, well, we all know how much he loves Daddy and Big Brother, so he's been sending garrisons of Angels into Hell to try and free Mikey and Luce and get the show back on the road. Lucky for me, those marauding Angels don't care enough to notice that my gunmetal grey Grace is not the same as the choking, black clouds you'll find inside Demons, so they tried to kill me on sight as well. I was on the run from everyone for over a century before I finally made it back to the Cage, limping and bruised and bleeding. When Luci saw me, I swear, I've never seen him look so sad. He told me to 'Find Castiel and the Winchesters', reached out two fingers to touch to my forehead, and surprise! I woke up here."

The following stunned silence was only punctuated by Elijah breathing heavily. The brothers looked shocked, while Castiel's usually impassive face was tinged with something that almost looked like sadness.

Dean broke the silence. "So you're trying to tell us that you're here because Lucifer, bringer of the Apocalypse, sent you here? Because he has a soft spot for you or something? Do you really expect us to believe that crap?"

Elijah opened her mouth to retort angrily but Castiel jumped in first. "Dean, she is not lying," he said evenly, eyes fixed on Elijah.

Dean looked incredulously at Castiel. "Cas, what? You can't be taking her side, not when she's claiming to be all buddy-buddy with the Devil!"

Castiel ignored Dean's protests in favour of reaching a hand towards Elijah. " _Esiasacahe, zomdv congamphlgh?"_ he asked lowly.

Elijah's eyes glanced at the hand in front of her before trailing up to meet cerulean eyes. " _Darilapa miketh emna,_ Castiel," she responded quietly.

Castiel nodded his understanding before gingerly placing his hand on Elijah's sternum. Immediately he squeezed his eyes shut as a red, throbbing pain shot down his spine and spread out along his back. Gasping aloud, Castiel waited for the pain to abate into something more manageable, but the moment never came.

Dean had started forward as the first hint of pain crossed Castiel's features, but was quickly stopped by his brother's hand on his chest. Dean's wild eyes locked with Sam's resolute ones. "He needs to do this, Dean," he said calmly. "He'll be fine."

Dean swept his brother's hand off him, but made no other moves, instead mumbling something angrily to himself that sounded suspiciously like "How the fuck would you know?"

Castiel's entire body tensed up further as he fell slightly forward, barely managing to brace his weight on his other arm to stop himself from crashing entirely into Elijah. Castiel deliberately took in some slow, deep breaths as he gathered himself to push past the sensations of pain in order to find any traces of deceit in Elijah's Grace. Not that he expected to find any, he just needed to confirm that there wasn't any present so he wouldn't have to retract his previous claim that Elijah was telling the truth. The search did not take very long, and Castiel hastily removed his hand from Elijah's chest.

"Cas, you okay?" asked Dean, trying hard to not sound too concerned. It was a difficult thing to manage when Castiel did not move from his hunched over position by the bed.

Elijah reached up to tentatively scratch through the hair at the nape of Castiel's neck, a gesture that left the residual tension draining out of his body.

Castiel slowly opened his eyes to meet Elijah's. " _Noco de miketh, zomdv vpaahi…"_ There was a startling reason his search did not take as long as it should have. Elijah was missing some parts that were integral to an Angel's wellbeing.

"Where are your wings, Elijah?"

* * *

 _Esiasacahe, zomdv congamphlgh? = Brother, your spirit?_  
Castiel is asking permission to see into Elijah's Grace (soul, spirit)

 _Darilapa miketh emna, Castiel = Great torment here, Castiel_  
Elijah is warning Castiel of the intense pain she feels, and he too will feel when he looks at her Grace.

 _Noco de miketh, zomdv vpaahi… = Slave of torment, your wings…_  
'Slave of torment' is a fancy way of saying 'you poor thing', a natural reaction of pity in response to seeing someone in pain (or experiencing it yourself, in this case). The 'your wings' bit explains itself I think…

Please review! :)


	3. Chapter 3: It's Very Complex

The stunned silence lasted for several excruciating long moments, three sets of eyes burning into Elijah. If it were anyone else they perhaps would've melted into a pool of self-consciousness, but she just seemed contentedly aware of the attention.

Dean, ever the breaker of silences, spoke first. "I'm sorry, I don't think I quite caught what just happened. It sounded like this Angel, who is already confused about what gender they are, they went and lost their wings? How does that even happen?" Dean was agitated, perhaps more than was strictly necessary.

Castiel had long since straightened up from his position over Elijah, and now turned to face Dean. "Elijah didn't 'lose' her wings Dean, such a thing is not possible."

"Also, I'm not confused you fucker, don't talk about me like I'm not here," Elijah said grumpily, crossing her arms.

Dean's furrowed brow deepened at the celestial beings ganging up on him, and at Castiel's failure once again to grasp the figurative meaning of his words. "Okay fine, whatever," he snapped, eyes closing in exasperation. "Someone just explain to me, why doesn't she have wings?"

Castiel turned back to Elijah. "An Angel's wings will always regenerate, no matter how traumatically they are injured," he started, leaning forward to touch two fingers to Elijah's forehead. He sounded as if he was going to continue talking, but as soon as he made contact with the Angel lying before him, she was sighing in relief and swinging her legs over the bed to stand up triumphantly.

Elijah grinned at the collection of confused looks aimed at her. "Now that Little Cas has dampened the awful pain I was feeling, I can actually move my legs without feeling like I want to die," she explained. She then addressed Dean directly. "This is why I was laughing before. You said I was still kicking, but I was effectively paralyzed from the waist down." She laughed a little at the memory of her private joke.

Dean was unimpressed while Sam looked a little lost, having been absent for the exchange that was being referenced. Castiel, however, twitched the corners of his mouth upwards into a small smile. It quickly fell when he turned to look at the brothers and realised that they didn't share in his amusement. "As I was saying, an Angel's wings will always come back. If Elijah doesn't have wings, it means she's never had them."

"So, what, then?" spoke Sam. "She just never grew wings? Isn't that kind of not possible if she's an Angel?"

Castiel declined to answer, instead turning back to Elijah, head tilted a little bit in puzzlement. Elijah, who had been staring off into space and humming an almost-recognizable show tune softly, suddenly started out of her daydreaming when she realised she had once again attracted the gazes of the three men in the room. "Oh, sorry, did you actually want my input now? Or will you continue talking about me like I'm not here?"

Castiel frowned slightly at her abrasiveness. "Elijah-"

Elijah ignored him in favor of turning her back to him and pulling the back of her shirt over her head. "Go ahead and have a peek, Cassie."

Castiel hesitated a bit, still uncomfortable with her brusque manner. Eventually, he reached up to touch a finger to her spine, between the shoulder blades. " _Zodamran,_ " he spoke lowly, his native language rolling easily off his tongue.

Immediately an intricate design bloomed outwards from the point of contact across and down Elijah's back. Etched in pure black, the elaborate design consisted of a rather convoluted circle balanced by a simple cross extending beneath it.

"That's the spacey symbol for Venus, isn't it?" Dean questioned.

Castiel lowered his hand. "It is. I've not seen a sigil like this before, it's very complex." He stepped closer and tilted his head as he studied the strange symbol further. "There are a variety of symbols and languages interwoven with the Enochian. Whoever crafted this has done a remarkably thorough job."

"Whoever cra-?" Elijah sighed in exasperation. "Sammy, quick pop quiz. What do you call a planet, particularly Venus, that rises in the eastern sky before the Sun does?"

Sam frowned at the use of his childish nickname. "Uh, they're called morning stars. I don't understand-"

Elijah turned around at that moment to face Sam, eyebrows raised in expectation. She was careful to keep herself covered with her borrowed shirt, recalling what Castiel had said about humans and nudity.

"Wait," Sam said slowly, realization dawning. "Lucifer did this? Why would he- I thought you said he liked you?"

Elijah frowned slightly in confusion. "Yeah, he does. He-"

"Then how are you okay with this? You don't have wings because of him and you can only deal with that if some other Angel has you hopped up on celestial painkillers!" interjected Dean.

Hazel eyes screwed up in annoyance. "If you're quite done interrupting me to jump at the chance to demonize the only reason I'm still alive," snarked Elijah, pulling the shirt back over her head. "He did it to protect me, you dick. Do you understand what happens to Angels down in the Pit?"

Dean at least had the decency to look slightly taken aback as he considered Castiel's explanation from last night.

"I've spent the same amount of time in Hell as Lucifer, perhaps even more since he had his little topside escapade. Don't you think it's rather curious that my Grace is not as black as his?" Elijah was frustrated with the Winchesters. It was all so blindingly simple to her, why couldn't they understand?

"Alright, okay," said Dean in a rough but placating manner. "Cas, can you just help her out? Then we can all be on our own merry ways."

Elijah turned to look at Castiel, arms loosely crossed and an expectant look upon her face.

Castiel met her eyes for a few seconds before facing Dean. "The binding was set in place by an Archangel. Breaking it is beyond my limits of power, even as a Seraph."

There was quiet as the implications of this knowledge sunk into the minds of the group. Sam huffed a sigh and Dean scrubbed both hands over his face.

Sam was the first to snap out of the tense silence that had cloaked the group. "Dean, we should head out and start on that case," he said, collecting his belongings to take out to the Impala.

Dean stared at his brother for a few moments, still a little petulant that he was calling the shots. Dean was the eldest and he made the decisions. Sam's job was to either go along with him or disagree. He neglected to say anything though, just pursed his lips slightly in annoyance as moved to copy Sam's actions. He turned to face the two Angels left in the room, the only evidence left to show the Winchesters had stayed here. "Check out is at eleven. Don't be late," he told them before readjusting the bag over his shoulder and following Sam out to the car.

The room was suddenly silent. "What is check out?" Elijah asked.

Castiel turned to face Elijah, tearing his eyes from the door the brothers had disappeared through. "It was never explained to me, but I've come to understand that you must vacate the room you're staying in by that time."

Elijah frowned. "This isn't their home?"

Castiel declined to answer, instead fixing Elijah with an almost sad look.

Elijah couldn't picture not having a home. Sure, Hell wasn't the most warm and inviting of places, but she was always coming back to the Cage and Lucifer. She didn't want to think about how things would be different without that point of reference.

Castiel stepped forward and took hold of Elijah's upper arm. She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing when a beam of bright light caused her to squeeze her eyes shut and bring her hands to her face.

"For Hell's sake Castiel, a little warning next time?" They were outside now, although Elijah couldn't say how near or far they were from the motel they had just left.

Castiel released her arm. "My apologies. Many humans consider the rising of the sun quite beautiful. I happen to agree with them."

Elijah dropped her hands and barely opened her eyes, blinking frequently. "I'm sure I would too if I wasn't being actively blinded."

* * *

The loaded silence hung thickly in the Impala. Both brothers were thinking the same thoughts but neither of them were particularly keen to accept them, let alone give them a voice.

"You don't think Cas is gonna do something stupid, do you?" asked Sam.

Dean scoffed. "Like what?"

"Elijah needs an Archangel to undo that binding. Gabriel is dead and there's no chance Raphael will give us a hand just because we asked nicely," Sam said carefully. He's not quite sure when it started, but Dean tended to get a little prickly and defensive whenever Castiel was mentioned. It was not something Sam enjoyed dealing with.

Dean looked across to meet Sam's eyes for a few seconds before returning his gaze to the road. "He's not gonna open the Cage, Sam. That's what Raphael wants, and Cas is fighting against him, remember?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, I guess," he said by way of ending the conversation. That was before Elijah happened, though, he thought to himself. While it was clear Castiel barely knew Elijah better than either of the Winchesters did, he did have a penchant for forming strong bonds very quickly. One look at his relationship with Dean and almost anyone could tell you the same. It wasn't so farfetched, then, to assume Castiel would do his very best to help Elijah, especially considering they were definitely related in some angelic manner. And Sam knew, better than most, exactly how far some people are willing to go for family.

* * *

Elijah and Castiel were walking at a sedate pace down some long-forgotten back road. There had been some idle chatter between the two Angels, mostly on the subject of humans. Castiel was doing his best to answer the many questions Elijah had, but there were quite a few topics Castiel only knew about and didn't fully understand himself. Slowly, as they walked along the messy amalgamation of gravel and asphalt (did it really deserve to be called a road?), Elijah had adjusted to the light and now only squinted if she looked towards the bright sky.

"So Cassie," started Elijah, breaking a comfortable silence that had fallen due to a natural lull in conversation. "Are you sure you're completely and absolutely unable to help me out?"

Castiel looked at Elijah for a few seconds, reminded briefly of a certain Archangel who also used that nickname when Castiel was still a fledgling. He sighed quietly and turning his eyes skyward. "The issue lies not so much in the actual power of the sigil. Under normal circumstances I could disable it, although it would not be quick nor easy." He paused briefly as Elijah nodded in understanding. "However, Lucifer was very thorough. He has inscribed his own name as well as his brothers' names within the binding in such a way that they are the only ones who are able to take apart the binding without causing serious injury to themselves or to you."

Elijah frowned. "And what exactly is stopping us from nabbing an Archangel? I mean, obviously Luci and Mike are still down in the Cage, and I get we're not even gonna try and touch Raph with a ten foot pole, but Gabe could still help, right?"

Castiel froze in place so suddenly Elijah ended up a few paces ahead before she realized he was no longer beside her. Confused, she turned to face him. Castiel jaw was tensed, his fists clenched, and he was staring so fiercely at the ground by his feet that Elijah vaguely entertained the notion of the gravel spontaneously combusting as a result of such intense scrutiny. She quickly put a lid on that thought as Castiel closed his eyes and breathed deeply. _Time and a place, Elijah_ she thought to herself, watching Castiel carefully as he slowly relaxed.

Aside from the wind blowing, insects buzzing and the odd bird call or two, there was quiet for a few moments as Elijah waited for Castiel to speak. He took a deep breath. "Gabriel is dead. Lucifer killed him not long before he got sent back into the Cage."

Suddenly Elijah felt like she needed to sit down. In the many, many years Elijah had spent with Lucifer, he only ever brought up his time in Heaven if it had something to do with his treasured, younger brother. These were the stories that Elijah adored. Not only were they sweet, warm and humorous, but retelling the tales often made Lucifer light up brighter than she'd ever seen him. Elijah had eventually come to regard Gabriel as a sort of weird, distant uncle; while she didn't know him personally, he knew Luci and had made him happy, and that was good enough for her.

It was interesting, then, that she felt the sting of loss and the pain of grief as sharply as she did. Perhaps she was just feeling awful in sympathy for her carer? She coughed a little in an attempt to dislodge the uncomfortable lump in her throat. "How did he… I don't… What happened?" she stammered out.

Castiel swallowed. "He was defending humanity, the Winchesters… He wanted Lucifer to back down, to give up on the Apocalypse. I know he wanted to try and settle things peacefully, but I think he knew Lucifer wouldn't listen to him." Castiel seemed like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself.

Elijah found herself staring intently at a particular kink in the wire fence that ran parallel to the road. She felt furious that Lucifer had ultimately killed Gabriel after all the stories of him he had shared. But at the same time, she knew more than anything that it was the hardest thing he'd ever done, and would probably ever do. She knew he had to be hurting and she felt like kicking herself for not picking up on it during the few precious moments they had spent together before he sent her topside.

Castiel cleared his throat. "I have to return to Heaven. My brothers-"

"Yeah, I know," Elijah interrupted quietly. "Shit's crazy up there and Raphael isn't doing anything about it." Her eyes didn't leave the fence.

Castiel closed his mouth and shuffled awkwardly on his feet.

Elijah sighed quietly and finally tore her eyes to look at Castiel's tie rather than meeting his eyes. "Just… Find me when you come back. You're my only friend around these parts." She met his eyes briefly and tried for a smile, but it probably came out as a grimace.

Castiel nodded once and vanished, leaving behind a slight breeze.

Elijah immediately sat down, supporting her head in her hands while her arms in turn rested on her knees. She had experienced shock due to physical trauma before; what she was feeling now seemed quite similar. But it was also new, and now that she had been left alone she felt quite small and afraid. Normally, she would retreat to the Cage and Lucifer, maybe talk things out with him or just soak up the reassurance of his presence. That wasn't an option anymore, so she settled for the next best thing.

She squeezed her eyes shut, took a few deep, calming breaths, and prayed.

* * *

 _Zodamran = Appear  
_ Pretty simple and self-explanatory.

Hope you enjoyed! Please review :)


	4. Chapter 4: I'm Back, Baby!

_Hi Luci._

 _I know it's been a while where you are but I only woke up several hours ago. I'm fine though. Castiel found me pretty much straight away and he's switched down the intensity of pain my binding was given me. Thanks for that, by the way. Although, he's back in Heaven right now, so it's hurting a little more at the moment. It's not a bad thing, I'm not mad at him or anything. He's just trying to sort out Raphael's messes. The Winchesters don't like or trust me, especially Sam, but I can't blame them for that either. I'm kinda by myself for a little while now._

 _Look, uh… Cassie told me what happened with Gabe. I don't… I'm sorry I guess. I'm not gonna pretend like I understand the hows and whys of what happened, but I'm sorry that that's what it came to. I would've liked- uh… Yeah you know what? Don't worry about it._

 _I hope you're okay and everything's fine with Michael. I'll keep checking in and keeping you up to date with stuff. Look after yourself, Bub._

Lucifer had stirred back to consciousness at the first hint of his precious Elijah's voice, but he only opened his eyes once the prayer finished. Listening in on someone's words like that was somewhat of a novel experience; not many people prayed to the Devil. Not anyone Lucifer could be bothered listening to, anyway.

Breathing deeply, Lucifer took a mental inventory of his body. Zapping Elijah away from within the confines of the Cage was a rash decision, one that had drained him nearly completely of his power. It was amazing he was still alive really, but at the amount of discomfort he was in, he almost wished he wasn't. Every limb felt leaden and sore. His right hand, the one that had reached out to touch Elijah, felt like it was on fire, the burning pain radiating up his arm. His head was pounding so heavily that he was almost sure his brain was trying to jump free from his skull. Surprisingly, what hurt the most was the almighty ache in his chest that had developed upon hearing Elijah speak about Gabriel. He knew she had wanted to meet him, and he had taken that away from her.

He blew a sharp breath out of his nose and screwed up his eyes before tears could form. He couldn't do this, not right now, not with-

"Lucifer, brother, are you alright?" Michael sounded genuinely concerned.

Lucifer cleared his throat. "Oh yeah, I'm just peachy Mike, thanks for asking."

Michael frowned at his brother's sarcasm. "You haven't been properly conscious for nearly two months, forgive me for being concerned."

Lucifer laughed. "You kicked me out of Heaven and shut me up in here, and then when I finally got out you wanted to kill me. Forgive me for not appreciating your so-called 'concern'."

Michael pursed his lips. Lucifer had a point, of course. Michael should've known better than to treat him as if there wasn't so much bad blood between them. He had hoped Lucifer would at least act civilly, but it seemed that Michael had forgotten just how stubborn and childish his younger brother could be.

Lucifer visibly winced and hissed lowly as he used the walls of the Cage to pull himself up to a sitting position. Michael briefly considered helping before realizing his assistance would not be appreciated nor tolerated. Instead he just watched as his fallen brother moved backwards to prop himself up against the wall.

"You know, you'd probably do better worrying about your other brother. He-"

"Raphael is not sitting in this damned Cage with me," Michael interrupted smoothly.

Lucifer frowned at the interruption, but continued. "I just heard that he was making an awful mess of Heaven. I'm talking like civil war kind of mess." Lucifer didn't actually know what exactly was going on upstairs, but he knew Raphael well enough to guess somewhat accurately.

Michael let out a heavy sigh. "I feared as much. No doubt he's trying his best to break us out of here to continue the Apocalypse."

Lucifer barked a hollow laugh, shaking his head in dry amusement. "Of course he is. He idolized you, and you did so love following Dad's orders. He's probably asking himself, 'What would Michael do?' Maybe he even made himself a little wristband-"

"Enough, Lucifer." Michael had closed his eyes in exasperation. He was really not sure how he had managed to forget how much of a strain his brother was on his patience.

Lucifer grinned at his brother's expression. Getting on his older brother's nerves was a technique he had perfected, and evidently, it had not wasted away despite a near eternity apart.

* * *

Elijah spent the next two days walking, taking in every thing she could about the world around her. It seemed so different from what she could remember from her earliest days with Lucifer, millions of years ago. She supposed that was to be expected as a side effect of spending an extreme amount of time in Hell.

It was late in the evening of the second night when she walked into the sleepy little town. It was a good thing many of the residents were asleep; Elijah had only a handful of cars pass her as she walked along the quiet roads, but they had all stopped to speak to her. One or two seemed genuinely concerned about her, the rest were after something a little more sinister. Elijah had yet to figure out what exactly it was about herself they considered attractive. She realized she didn't even look distinctly female, thanks to her hair that was cut rather short and her borrowed clothes that were exceedingly too big for her. She decided to not linger on those thoughts, instead remaining grateful that she didn't have to deal with any more unwanted attention or concern. At least, not for a few more hours.

She eventually happened upon what she supposed was the local sports field. She couldn't help grinning; such an open space provided a plain view of the star-studded sky. Such a view she had not seen for countless millennia; the previous night saw the sky cloaked in cloud. Nonetheless she was pleased to discover it was not any less breathtaking than she remembered it. With a sigh, Elijah picked a spot towards the centre of the field and lay back on the lush grass. She wiled away the hours tracing the stars and a few planets in their slow trek across the broad expanse of black.

When the steadily brightening sky finally announced the arrival of the sun, Elijah slowly climbed back to her feet. She wanted to be on her way before many people saw her; it was just easier to not have to deal with their concern or judgement whether verbalised or not.

She had just straightened up from picking bits of dead grass from her pants when a sudden _whoof_ startled her into a defensive crouch as she spun to face the source of the sound.

Castiel watched her with wary eyes, trench coat still waving slightly from his arrival.

Elijah rolled her eyes with a sigh as she relaxed. "You might want to try appearing in front of me next time, I'll be less liable to hurt you," she said rather crossly. "So how was Heaven, Cassandra?"

Castiel opened his mouth to answer, but shut it again in indignation as he realised what he just been called. It was then Elijah registered his appearance. Smears of grime and dirt decorated a washed out face, accompanied by dark eye circles and chapped lips. The trench coat bore a few new tears and holes, and Castiel's tense posture indicated an injury hidden beneath his many layers of clothing.

"Wow, you look like shit," Elijah commented, pursing her lips. She was surprised at the slight tug her heart gave at Castiel's downtrodden appearance.

"Elijah, please. I am very tired and I don't have the patience for your games. I need to be somewhere safe," Castiel explained, voice rougher than usual.

Elijah frowned. "Why did you come to me then? You should be with Dean and Sam! They can actually protect you!" she stated in vehement frustration. Why was Castiel wasting his time with her?

Castiel tilted his head to the side. "You asked me to find you when I got back."

Elijah froze. She had asked Castiel to do that, but she hadn't really expected him to follow through. At the very least, she thought he would check in with the Winchesters before tracking her down.

"The Winchesters are protected by Enochian sigils. No Angel can find them," Castiel continued, unaware of the minor emotional crisis Elijah was caught up in. Instead he swayed slightly on his feet, a telling indication of his exhaustion.

Elijah swallowed in an effort to dissipate the lump that was threatening to form in her throat. "Cas, I- I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help you." The words spilled out of her mouth in a rush of anxiety.

The corners of Castiel's mouth pulled upwards slightly in a barely-there smile. "There is a place we can go," he said in what Elijah assumed was supposed to be a soothing manner. He held out a hand for Elijah to take.

Elijah studied his hand for a second before reaching out and grabbing it with a touch of hesitance.

She barely had time to register that they'd arrived at their destination before Castiel pitched forward limply, hand ripping out of Elijah's as his utter fatigue finally overwhelmed in. In another life, perhaps Elijah would've lunged forward to stop Castiel from landing heavily on the gravel. But in this life, her wings had been bound, and now that the Angel who was keeping her pain-free was currently lying unconscious on the ground, that agony was now back in full force.

Elijah screwed up her eyes and she forced herself to breathe deeply. _Great. This is really fucking great. Just the absolute best_ she thought angrily to herself. She hoped Lucifer could hear her right now. She sent out a short prayer just in case. It probably wasn't necessary, and Lucifer probably didn't completely deserve the anger, but damn it, she was in an excessive amount of pain and it was making her grumpy and irrational.

She opened her eyes and studied her surroundings. Cars. Lots and lots of cars. Lines of cars that stretched on for yards on end, and nearly all of them were in different states of disrepair and function. Turning slowly and carefully and wincing at the pain in her back, she squinted down the driveway to the sign arching over the entrance to the vast yard. She was able to make out the words ' _Singer Auto Salvage'_ , despite reading them backwards. _Is 'salvage' another name for 'unhealthy hoard'?_ Elijah wondered to herself somewhat cheekily.

Still breathing heavily, she turned back and began slowly shuffling towards the front door of the house in front of her. She was frustrated by her slow gait, wishing she could move faster to get Castiel the help he needed. Unfortunately, it was a bit of a Catch-22 in that she needed Cas to help her so she could help him. _Oh well,_ she thought, pressing her lips firmly together as she fought through the pain to keep moving. _Not much I can do except get this Singer guy to help out._

She finally reached the door and knocked three times before leaning heavily on the jambs. She sucked in a deep breath, closing her eyes and trying to gather together some semblance of patience and serenity in preparation for her impending social interaction. For Hell's sake, she couldn't recall ever being in so much pain before. It was so inconvenient. _You're already bad at talking to people politely? That's great! Now you can try it while being in excruciating pain!_

The door swung inwards, startling Elijah out her snarky self-commentary and revealing a gruff, older man. He gave her a quick once-over with eyes before raising his eyebrows in a display of dubiousness.

Elijah gave a little cough. "Uh, Mr Singer, hi. Um, we haven't met before but I know Castiel and, well to be blunt, he's passed out back there," Elijah jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "And he's not really in great shape, so I was hoping you could lend him a bed for a day or two? Just to let him rest and get back on his feet?" She shuffled to the side so he could see out to where Castiel lay sprawled face down in the gravel.

The man's face, which had been resolute and stony up until this point, softened minutely in concern as his eyes flicked to Castiel. "Why is he with you and not the Winchesters?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, I kinda asked him to see me when he got back from Heaven. I honestly didn't think he-" Elijah stopped suddenly when she realised she was rambling. "Uh… he said that they were protected by something- Enochian sigils? He can't find them, so yeah, here we are."

Bobby's eyes were still narrowed slightly in scepticism, but he sighed and marched out onto the drive to retrieve Castiel. Elijah turned and watched him, one hand still firmly gripping the door frame. As much as she would love to lie down and not do anything ever again, she had an overwhelming urge to make sure Castiel was safe before she did so.

"Do you think you could give me a hand, princess?"

 _Nope. I can't. I really, really can't._

Elijah released the doorjamb with a deep sigh and followed Bobby to Castiel's prone body.


	5. Chapter 5: Ditchable Prom Date

AN: It's been a while (over a month) and for that I apologise :( I got really stuck on this chapter, but it ended up being the longest so far. Go figure.

* * *

 _Great. This is really fucking great. Just the absolute best._

 _Luci I really would've appreciated some thought to the pain management aspect of this whole wing-binding thing. Might've made it easier to, oh I don't know, live? Thrive? Function at the most basic of levels?_

Lucifer sighed. Elijah wasn't saying anything he hadn't already told himself, but it still stung coming from her. He had long ago acknowledged his failure to realise the pain such a binding would put Elijah in, but he always figured he'd be around to ensure she never felt it. While he had anticipated the Apocalypse and his release from the Cage, he hadn't expected being shoved back in and subsequently creating a power vacuum in Hell. The same power vacuum that directly threatened Elijah and forced her to run for decades with a target on her back. Lucifer had indulged a knee-jerk reaction when he sent her to Earth; getting his Little One to safety was the only thing he could think about clearly when she finally returned to the Cage, debilitated and weary.

At that he gave himself a bit of mental slap to the face. She was safe, damn it! Yes, being pain-free would be the cherry on the cake but for now she was alive and secure on Earth, and she should appreciate that!

"What could you possibly be thinking about that has you so worked up?"

Lucifer winced inwardly. Once upon a time he would've kept his face schooled to a perfect mask of cool indifference when in the presence of his older brother. Spending eons in the Cage with only Elijah for company had erased that habit, something that Michael had regrettably picked up on.

"Just little Raph. I can only assume I'll be blamed for whatever mess he's making," Lucifer lied smoothly.

Michael nodded once slowly, scepticism raising his brow and pursing his lips. "Right, because you know exactly what he's doing, being your favourite brother and all."

Lucifer clenched his jaw and refused to reply. Okay, so the lie wasn't as smooth as he thought it was. Having Michael around again was just highlighting how much the skills that he'd once taken for granted had now wasted away with disuse.

Michael continued after it became clear Lucifer wasn't going to respond. "So then, how do you know what Raphael is up to, really?"

Lucifer ran his tongue over his teeth as he thought. The protective part of him wanted to keep Elijah from Michael's knowledge for as long as he was able, for his older brother was sure to try and take her back to Heaven or away from him at the very least. But their conversation so far had shown that he couldn't lie outright to Michael's face, not convincingly anyway. This left deciding quickly and carefully which parts of the truth to reveal and what to leave up to Michael's speculation. "I have a little birdy praying to me, okay?"

Michael raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Someone's praying… to you?" he repeated, just to make sure he had heard his younger brother correctly.

Lucifer huffed lightly at his brother's expression. "Don't act so surprised Mike, did you really think I was the only being in all of Creation that didn't want to follow along with Dad's plan? Some people want to talk to me instead."

Michael's eyebrows immediately dropped into a frown at the mention of their long-absent Father, and the strong clench of his jaw told Lucifer that he didn't have anything to say in response.

"So, there's this girl, I guess…"

Michael snorted. "You guess?"

Lucifer glared at him for a moment before continuing. "Yeah... The way she presents herself is, shall we say, open to interpretation."

Michael nodded slowly. "Right."

"Anyway, she and I, we spent a little time together while I was on Earth," Lucifer continued. "And I guess now she's my inside man. Or outside man, since we're inside… I guess she's topside actually, so what-"

"Alright then," interrupted Michael, understanding that Lucifer had abandoned saying anything more that was useful in favour of chasing a tangent. "But if she's human, how does she know what's going on in Heaven?"

Lucifer took a moment to smirk to himself; Michael had made an assumption and was running with it. For now, he would remain unenlightened about Elijah, which took a load off Lucifer's back. "She's found her way to Castiel and the Winchesters. Or rather, I think they found her."

Michael sighed. "And why, for Dad's sake, is Castiel telling her everything?"

Lucifer shrugged. "You got me there, Mikey. This is Castiel we're talking about, though. Kid's not exactly known for playing by the rules, correct?"

Michael didn't answer, instead just shook his head in mild disappointment and frustration. "He's always been trouble, Castiel. It probably didn't help that Gabriel took a real shine to him. With him raising the fledglings, we barely stood a chance."

Michael had meant to finish the conversation with a relaxed contemplative silence between them. However, at the mention of their youngest brother's name, Lucifer had frozen up completely, eyes burning a hole into some unsuspecting section of the Cage. Michael mentally slapped himself. He knew what had happened between Lucifer and Gabriel, but as much as he wanted to know the whys of what had gone down between his brothers, he also really didn't want to bring it up with Lucifer. Such a sensitive topic was bound to evoke an unpredictable reaction from him, something that Michael wasn't prepared to handle within the confines of their prison.

Lucifer was hanging on to his composure by the barest of threads. He really wanted to avoid an emotional breakdown and signal his weakness to his older brother, but then Michael had gone ahead and brought up their youngest brother.

"Lucifer-"

"Don't," Lucifer cut his brother off, voice tight. "I don't want to hear it Michael."

Michael frowned, biting his lip slightly as he thought. Killing your favourite sibling was not something anyone should keep bottled up, former Ruler of Hell or not. At the same time, Michael wasn't prepared for a screaming match or any physical fight that may ensue if he tried to push the issue. He sighed. Passive middle-ground approach it was, then. "I know it's probably the last thing you want right now, but if you want to talk about it, and I really think you should, I will listen."

Lucifer didn't move or give any sign to acknowledge he had heard Michael's words. He didn't bother to raise a hand to wipe away the single tear that had spilled out and trickled down his face.

Seeing the lone drop make its way down his brother's face to eventually drip off his chin into his lap broke Michael's heart. He hadn't seen Lucifer cry since they were both very small fledglings, billions of years ago.

* * *

Castiel lay sprawled and unconscious across the couch in Bobby's library, a result of much swearing and cursing and rough cooperation between Bobby and Elijah. Upon finally divesting herself of Castiel's weight, Elijah found herself slowly and gingerly sinking to the floor, eager to relieve some of the agonising stress on her back.

Bobby eyed the strange girl who had just made herself at home on the ground by the sofa. "Can I get you anything? Water perhaps? You seem pretty tuckered out," he remarked drily.

The sarcasm went right over Elijah's head. That or she just chose to ignore it. "No thanks, actually. Not a big fan of ingesting things," she replied.

Bobby sighed quietly to himself and turned to head into the kitchen, mumbling something about "smart-ass freaks" and "lounging around" under his breath. He soon returned with two glasses of water and stood by Elijah expectantly.

Elijah, who had closed her eyes in an effort to relax and focus on something else apart from the debilitating pain in her back, now cracked them open as she sensed a figure standing over her. Eyes flicking to the two glasses in Bobby's hands, she frowned minutely. "You did hear me when I said I don't do food and drink, right?" she asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, I heard ya," replied Bobby. "Doesn't mean you ain't gettin' any though," and he emptied the glass over her head.

Elijah, of course, was in no state to dodge the water or even quickly move her arms to block the brunt of it. So she lay there, blinking at the drops that made their way too close to her eyes. "You know, I'm kinda new to this whole human thing. Is it traditional to splash guests with-" She collected a few stray drops on her cheek with her fingers and brought them to her mouth, tongue darting out to have a taste, "-holy water?"

Bobby placed the empty glass on the desk behind him and took a sip of his own water before answering. "Can't blame a guy for checking. I like to keep my home demon-free."

Elijah frowned at that. "Demons don't like holy water?"

Bobby huffed a single laugh, seemingly amused by her inexperience. "It's like throwing acid on them."

Elijah nodded slowly. "That makes sense, I suppose," she said, rubbing at the water drops still tickling her face. "You know, you're the first being in a long, long time that's checked to see if I am actually a demon before they've tried to kill me."

Now it was Bobby's turn to frown in confusion. "You mind expanding on that, sunshine?"

Elijah took a deep breath. "Well, okay, little disclaimer first: If I was able to harm you, I wouldn't be here because I could've looked after Cas by myself. So uh, try and keep an open mind I guess?" Her eyes had wandered to stare at the ceiling, but they now flicked back to see Bobby's expression had hardened into a look of wariness. "You may want to sit down," she sighed.

Bobby crossed his arms. "I think I'm fine, princess." Like Hell he was going to sit if the next words out of her mouth required him to fight or flee.

Elijah took another deep breath. Normally she wouldn't be too fussed with keeping on a human's good side. But Castiel, her only confirmed ally on Earth, was here. If she got kicked out of Singer's house, she couldn't take him with her. She'd be stuck wandering aimlessly and in constant pain until he woke up. If he woke up. The anxiety of that prospect was enough to make her tread carefully. "I'm an Angel."

Bobby raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything.

Elijah continued. "I fell to Earth when I was still a baby. No clue how or why. And Lucifer… I know you humans have issues with him, but he found me and took care of me. It was just the two of us for the longest time, and then your lot started showing up. Eventually we had our little run in with Lilith, Michael sent us all to Hell and locked Luci up. Millions of years pass and my Grace is tainted to a grey because funnily enough, Angels aren't supposed to hang around in Hell. When Raphael started sending hordes of Angels down to free his brothers, they didn't stop for long enough to discern that I wasn't actually a demon. They came across me on my lonesome, they wouldn't hesitate to try and smite me."

There was silence as Bobby absorbed the new information. "So, you're all buddy-buddy with the Devil, huh? You know he killed me once," he said offhandedly.

Elijah cringed. She knew that mankind had a general distrust towards the idea of Lucifer at the very least. It was just her luck that she managed to lump in with someone who had been personally victimised by him. "Sorry to hear that. Glad to see you're still with us."

Bobby snorted. "Yeah, you can thank Cas for that. He's a good guy. Got no clue about you though, sunshine."

"No, you don't," agreed Elijah. Here is where she began to hope that the old man was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. "But it's like I said; if I was able to harm you, I wouldn't be here. My wings have been bound and most of my power-"

"Excuse me?" interrupted Bobby. "Your wings have been bound?"

Elijah sighed heavily, fingers starting to pull at the hem of her (Sam's) shirt. "Incredible isn't it?" she spat. "Who ever heard of an Angel with no wings?"

Bobby frowned and took another gulp of water. Perhaps he should've poured himself something stronger. "That why you're lying on my floor then?"

Elijah nodded. "Bingo. Hurts a whole lot. Luci and Cas were dulling the pain down to pretty much nothing, but now… Well, you know."

Bobby nodded slowly, and then downed the rest of the water. "You got a name then, princess?"

"Elijah," she replied with a small smile. She visibly relaxed into the floor; surely asking her name was a sign he wasn't going to kick her out.

"Bobby Singer," he replied, tipping his trucker's cap slightly. He still wasn't sure about this stranger, but she hadn't raised any red flags yet. "You got any clue when Cas is gonna wake up?"

Elijah turned to look at Cas. Well, as much as she could from her position on the floor. "Shouldn't be much more than or day or two if I stay with him." She turned back to face Bobby, who had raised his eyebrows questioningly. "My Grace will jumpstart his, make it replenish faster. Does wonders to recovery time."

Bobby nodded once slowly, sceptical. "Right."

Elijah huffed a sigh. She wasn't sure why humans were slow to accept the differences in behaviour found in Angels. _Honestly, it's almost like we're a completely different species!_ "Do you think you could get me something to lie on? I'd feel a lot better if I could actually watch Cas, make sure he's alright."

Bobby held her gaze for a second, then shook his head and turned to head upstairs. He probably had an old fold out bed tucked away somewhere. In the meantime, he needed to find out why his two idjits neglected to let him know about the extra Angel they'd apparently picked up.

* * *

Sam was watching the scenery fly past as he sat in the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean was driving them to Sioux Falls to check in with Bobby after a whirlwind trip to Scotland. Sam had vaguely entertained the notion of offering to drive, considering Dean did not cope with flying well. He eventually concluded Dean's driving ability was not hindered to the point where he was unsafe, so Sam neglected to say anything.

Sam's phone began to ring from his pocket. He shifted in his seat slightly to dig it out and glanced at the caller ID before answering. "Hey Bobby, what's up?"

 _"_ _Just checking in Sam. How's Dean holding up after the flight?"_

Sam glanced at his brother. "He's fine. Still a little shaken if you ask me, but he's fine."

Dean frowned at that. "Hey, if humans were supposed to fly, we'd have wings, alright?"

Bobby chuckled. _"He sounds just fine to me. So listen…"_ Bobby's tone turned serious again. _"I know you two have been running all over for me, and I appreciate that. But do you think you could've managed to drop me a line or two to tell me about Cas' new girlfriend?"_

Sam stiffened in his seat. He really hoped Dean hadn't heard that. He did not want to have to bother about tiptoeing around him if he got into a bad mood. "You talking about Elijah?"

 _"_ _Showed up on my front doorstep towing an wiped-out Cas behind her."_

"Is he alright?" If Cas was hurt then it was going to put Dean on edge. Again, not something Sam really wanted to deal with.

The tendons in his hands flexed as Dean's grip tightened on the wheel, confirming Sam's assumptions.

 _"_ _Near as I can tell he's fine. Elijah said he'd been up in Heaven, so I'm assumin' he's just exhausted, maybe a little beat up. She's keeping a close watch on him anyhow, said he should only be out a day or two."_

Sam nodded. "That's good to hear. We're heading to you now, should be there around this time tomorrow."

 _"_ _Alright boy, I'll see you then."_

Sam hung up without saying goodbye.

Dean glanced at him for a few seconds before returning his eyes to the road. Concerned creased the gap between his brows. "What's going on? Is Cas okay?"

Sam tried not to smile at his brother's worry. "Yeah, he's fine. Just pushed himself too hard in Heaven I think. He's out cold but should be up and running in the next day or two."

Dean nodded but his posture remained tense.

Sam looked back out at the landscape slipping past.


End file.
